Break My Wings
by NikaChii
Summary: Set in season 7. God is sick and tired of the disloyalty in heaven, thus he needs someone to restore order. How does He intend to fix this problem? By giving a pissed off Winchester a new pair of wings of course. Eventual Destiel. Full summary inside.
1. Cause' fucking up takes practice

**Title: **Break My Wings

**Category: **Angst/humor with a slice of action. Why? Because it makes the perfect sandwich.

**Pairing: **Slow developing Dean/Castiel - Destiel

**Summary: **Set in season 7. It's been six months since the leviathans escaped from Purgatory. Cas is assumed dead, and the brothers have yet to kill a single one of the immortal creatures. Meanwhile, God is sick and tired of the disloyalty in heaven, thus he needs someone to restore order. How does He intend to fix it? By giving a pissed off Winchester a new pair of wings of course.

**Warning: **Slash, violence, character deaths/revival, language

**Rating: **M/NC-17

**A/N: **I'd just like to inform my future readers that even if this will end with Destiel I fully intend to keep the two men... well, men. All fluff will be handled in a very manly and as in character way as possible. My deepest apologies to fluff-lovers. When the time comes it will be hardcore smut with a bit of angst on the side. Oh... and a plot. Of course. A very satisfying plot.

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><p><strong>Chapter one <strong>- Cause' fucking up takes practice

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><p>Rain shot down like handmade bullets from heaven, showing no mercy as they viciously continued to soak a very pissed off Winchester to the bone. The trademark leather jacket the hunter stubbornly refused to get rid off offered little to no warmth, and his worn-out jeans clung uncomfortably to his skin.<p>

"Awesome…," Dean mumbled ironically as bitterness washed over him, his sense of humour apparently lacking this evening. Nevertheless, the ever so patient hunter persevered the slightly uncomfortable and wet position, leaning against the hood of what seemed to be the only constant object in his life these days; the Impala.

The infamous vehicle had conveniently been parked on top of a hillside just above an old warehouse. Because of course, every hunter knew that it_ always _had to be an abandoned, old _warehouse_. Some screwed up demon tradition or something, Dean was sure of it.

A deep rumble of distant thunder was heard, and if Dean hadn't known any better he would've cursed out God for doing everything in His power to make this night hell for him. But then again, Dean did know better, and this, like _everything_ else that had fucked him over in his quite possibly overdue life, was not the doing of a non-existing cowardly God of fucking corrupt Heaven.

Gazing up at the autumn sky with resentment in his eyes Dean inhaled the cold air surrounding him, calming him to a certain extent. He considered giving the man upstairs a one-fingered salute, but decided against it. After all, it was such a lovely evening for a suicide mission, one couldn't just ruin such a joy-filled mood with childish thoughts of vengeance, right?

Dean's train of thoughts were interrupted by a slight vibration coming from the right side of his jeans. The hunter hesitantly pulled out a cell from his pocket, flipping it open with a tired sigh. Better to just get it over with he supposed.

"What do you want, Bobby?" Dean answered, voice laced with mild annoyance. He already knew what the older man was going to say. He had been expecting this phone call for hours, after all.

"Are you trying to kill yourself, _boy_?" The word "again" remained unspoken. There was nothing close to approval evident in the other man's tone and Dean immediately regretted picking up the phone.

"Nah, I'm not quite there yet, but thanks for your concern," the younger man replied with feigned cheerfulness.

"You _know_ what I mea-"

Dean gave a short groan, not mentally prepared for a lecture. "Bobby listen… we've talked about this-"

"No _you_ talked about it. You can't just leave me a note and take off all by yourself. Now tell me where you are. I'm not letting you fight something _God_ himself didn't want roaming the earth!"

Dean gave a light chuckle in response, "You know, they're basically just giant fish if you were to trust the holy bible-"

"You think this is _funny_?" The older hunter spat, his voice holding a promise of pain if Dean didn't give him a location within the next five seconds.

Dean inhaled a deep breath. No, this was anything _but_ funny, and yet he felt like laughing like a madman. Probably not a good sign, but then again, since when had sanity been a part of his life? Hell, this was almost normal.

"Look, I can't just wait until we've found an _efficient_ enough way to kill these assholes. They have Sam, and I for mine would rather have my brother back with all organs intact."

"You friggin' moron, one would have thought you'd learned your lesson by now, kid. It's a darn trap and you're just gonna-"

"Don't you think I know that?" Dean retorted, cutting him off a second time. The words came out hoarse and tired. Because if it was anything Dean Winchester was it was just that, tired.

He then continued, tired of stating the obvious, "I'm not stupid. These purgatory bitches are smarter than, hell, any monster we've ever tried to take on, and you know what? There's nothing we can do about. _Nothin_'. It's not in any book, because God has it with leaving out instructions on how to deactivate His toys. I don't _intend _to fight them Bobby, but I'm sure as hell _not_ just gonna sit on my ass while they chew on Sammy's limbs."

"You're not even a hundred percent sure if they have him! Are you dumb enough to risk your life over something that'll end up gettin' you killed for _nothin_'?"

There was a slight pause as Dean seemed to consider the harsh words. Well, it wouldn't be the first time. "Then tell me, Bobby. Where else would he be? I haven't heard from my brother in _three _days. Three _frigging_ days! So, unless he's found himself another demon whore to jump for half a week I'm not buying the 'he'll probably show up eventually' crap. So thanks again for checking up on me, but I'm doing this."

"… Then at least let me help you," the voice on the other line pleaded reluctantly, knowing the other man wasn't about to change his mentally challenged mind anytime soon.

"…No."

"Dean-"

"I'm sorry… I really am."

"_Dean_, don't you han-"

"Bye Bobby."

The call ended as Dean flipped the phone shut, returning it to its rightful place. If he by some miracle survived this, Bobby would definitely shoot him.

Oh, if only Mary Winchester had been around to see what had become of her oldest son she would quite possibly have shot him too. Secrets, withholding information, _lying_. Any normal person with a conscience would've felt at least a tiny sting of regret at doing any of the above. Dean, however, was finding it surprisingly easy these days. The fact that he'd stopped caring didn't freak him out anymore and hadn't done so in quite a while. The hunter had been betrayed far too many times by the people he loved, people he considered _family,_ to even feel remotely guilty for taking matters into his own hands. And why the hell shouldn't he? Bobby didn't need to suffer due to a big brother's unhealthy, overprotective attitude towards Lucifer's destined condom. That, was Dean's job.

It was an unwritten rule; befriend the vessels of heaven and hell and your life will end in the most horrible manner possible. If you are extra lucky, some higher power _might_ bring you back to life only to stab you in the back and return your ass straight back to Hades. Or heaven. If there even was a difference between the two anymore.

Several minutes past accompanied by a silence heavier than Dean had ever experienced on his own. It felt as if the entire world was on hold, just waiting for him to do _something_… _anything_, that would start another chain-reaction which would eventually lead to the end of the world. Again. Hell, why not just let out another few million leviathans for good measure?

After all, fucking up _this _much took practice and after all this time Dean already knew that it was an act impossible to avoid if your last name rhymed with… well, whatever the hell rhymed with Winchester.

Realizing that time was probably crucial Dean pushed himself off of the hood only to circle the car and pop up the trunk in one fluid motion. It didn't matter what weapon he chose to take with him, there was no killing these things either way. So the hunter did what he thought seemed like the most logical choice and grabbed the biggest shotgun he could find, knowing it would do the most damage. That way, If he didn't make it, at lest he'd get to see a few ugly heads blow up before he called it a night.

There was only one game-plan and it involved finding Sammy, avoid God's runaway pets and get the hell away from Texas. Sure, it wasn't his best, but Dean was not about to _willingly_ fight immortal sea-monsters. That would indeed make him a "_friggin' idjit_" if he was to quote his overprotective foster daddy.

Dean was about to shut the lid as his eyes wandered by their own accord, lingering on a piece of clothing laying peacefully at the far back of the trunk, forgotten to anyone but him. The hunter snorted, looking blankly at the fabric that shouldn't be in his possession in the first place. Seriously, _why_ hadn't he thrown it out already? It wasn't like its owner would suddenly pop back and claim it.

Dean swallowed with slight difficulty, averting his gaze away from the trenchcoat. Great. Just what he needed. A reminder of why he was in this messed up situation in the first place. Dean smiled emptily at nothing in particular as the familiar feeling of betrayal swept through his entire being, threatening to swallow him whole. The hunter shut the trunk with a bit more force than necessary.

"Well screw you too…" Dean whispered hoarsely into the rain, resisting the urge to give into the mental breakdown he knew was coming sooner or later. But no, not yet. He had other things to worry about.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, stifling a groan as he tried to push all irrational thoughts to the back of his mind. He hadn't been able to catch a break for half a year and today was no different. Perhaps, when this messed up situation was over, granted there _was_ an end to this, when the world once again was safe-… well _safer_… maybe then he'd let himself have a tiny moment to reflect and feel again. To grieve, or whatever it was he needed to do to get rid of the immense pressure that had taken up residence in his chest. To curse out a friend for betraying his trust. For leaving him to clean up his mess. Indeed, fuck him and every other winged, disloyal _bastard_ in the universe that had cost him his happiness. That had cost countless of people their very lives.

The hunter let out a frustrated sigh as he ran tired fingers through soaked strands, taking yet another swig from the bottle he'd held onto like a lifeline from the moment he'd stepped out of the car. Thinking was annoyingly tiring. Hazy eyes, looking almost emerald under the influence of the darkened sky, gazed towards the building he soon would be storming. Sammy was in there somewhere. He had to be. Along with a few dicks from Purgatory, explaining the alcohol he was currently downing like a dying man. Which, in all honesty, was a pretty probable scenario at the end of the night.

It had been six months since those evil sons of bitches had escaped from Purgatory. Six months, and they had yet to kill a single one of the ancient monsters. Six months… since everything had gone straight to hell.

Dean braced himself as he started to move towards the warehouse, knowing he probably had a snowball's chance at surviving this.

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><p>"Sammy? <em>Sam<em>! Where the hell are you!" Dean felt, as well as heard, the desperation slowly creeping into his voice. Tired legs carried him as fast as he could muster while his steps kept echoing loudly through the corridor. Anyone who _wasn't _hearing-impaired would probably hear him coming from miles away, but he didn't care. He had already messed up.

Dean had been forced to abort the 'sneak-in-grab-stupid-little-brother-only-to-sneak-out-quietly' mission as he'd been noticed after the first five minutes. They were fast. Maybe too fast. The shotgun hadn't helped as much as he'd hoped either as it only served to give him an extra ten seconds before the bastards regenerated and were up and running once again.

"Damn it!" Dean hissed as he'd been dangerously close to tripping over his own feet. He was sure the embarrassment would've killed him long before the monster-giant-freaks behind him got the chance to, but he was still set on dying with a bit of dignity left. Just a bit though, he was no optimist.

It felt as if he'd been running for _hours_. Seriously, the warehouse did _not _look this huge from the outside. What was this? An empty IKEA?

Finally a door came into view and Dean did not hesitate tearing the piece of wood open. "Oh you've _got_ to be kidding me?" It was the same freaking hallway only mirrored! No doors. No Sammy. No escape.

Was he running in circles? Dean felt a lump start to form in his throat. He couldn't keep this up for much longer. He was slowly, but surely running out of breath and where the _fuck_ was his goddamn brother? He was gonna kick his ass into the next century as soon as he found him, and if he by some miracle had managed to get himself eaten he would make the afterlife hell, in every sense of the word, for little Sammy.

Dean jerked his head around as he heard approaching footsteps and immediately picked up the pace. Like hell he was gonna fight immortality with a shotgun. Nuh-uh. Not today.

"Going somewhere?" A man dressed in a bloodstained, dirty lab coat appeared out of nowhere before Dean, almost resulting in the hunter crashing head first into the creature's chest.

"How the hell did you-" Dean never had the chance to finish his sentence as the monster's hand gripped around his throat, slamming him into the wall with ease.

Dean felt the air leave his lungs as his back connected with the hard surface, surely cracking more than just the wall.

"Gnh..," the hunter groaned, trying to blink away the blurriness from his vision. Didn't work.

"I'm getting tired of this game of tag. Your movements are getting sloppier, and the volume of your breathing is kind of getting on my nerves. You're too slow, Dean. Where's the fun in that?" The leviathan version of doctor Sexy mused, looking positively bored.

"You suggesting we should reverse our roles then?" Dean choked out, giving a cocky but nervous smile. This was getting dangerous. His throat felt unnaturally dry and Dean tried to slowly reach out his left hand to grab the only weapon he had before it was too late. Just a little further now.

"Your reaction to fear is rather… fascinating. The most entertaining meal I've encountered yet I must admit. Maybe I _should _keep you breathing for a few more minutes?" The creature studied his prey with mild amusement, watching him with insect-like movements that clearly portrayed him as the animal Dean knew it was.

The amusement however was short-lived as it was soon replaced with another bored, impatient expression. The grip he had on Dean's throat tightened, almost breaking the hunter's neck. "…but then again, I'm hungry now." The monster bellowed darkly.

Dean gasped as excruciating pain shot through his entire body, making whatever thoughts he had on blowing the monster to bits and pieces disappear as both of his hands went up and gripped the one that was currently trying to crush his neck. Dean had to admit, his chances of survival didn't look particularly good at the moment.

The shotgun fell unceremoniously and quite audibly to the ground, but Dean was too occupied with the whole concept of breathing to notice such an unimportant occurrence. The predator kicked the weapon carelessly to the side, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. "Naughty. I think I'm going to enjoy tonight's meal even more than usual." The creature grinned grimly, staring directly into said meal's raging gaze.

"Where the h-hell," Dean rasped painfully, "is m-my brother?" Trembling fingers tried desperately to loosen the hold the predator had on his delicate throat, but the leviathan didn't even seem to notice the blood covered nails digging into it's arm.

"Oh, I don't know Dean. Shouldn't _you_ know that?" The self-proclaimed doctor chuckled darkly as he watched Dean's eyes widen in a mixture of confusion and anger. It was toying with him, It had to be. Sam _had_ to be here. He wouldn't do this to him.

"Dean. Dean. Dean… will you ever learn?" Dean had no idea if the words came from the thing currently trying to choke him to death, or If it was simply a sentence repeating itself in his head. He could no longer make out his surroundings as staying conscious was suddenly becoming an impossible task. _Damn_ it.

_'No… no, no, no! This can't be happening. Not yet. Not until I find Sammy._' All sorts of ugly thoughts burst into the forefront of Dean's mind as he fought to remain conscious. Would he honestly die by the hands, or mouth, of this flesh-eating… assbutt? Dean made a mental frown at the odd choice of word but blamed it on the obvious lack of air that was making his mind remember lame insults.

Dean could feel his lungs scream for oxygen as his attempted breathing became dangerously shallow, weaker by each second. There was no use. He couldn't fight himself out of this one.

In the end Dean's arms went completely limp as darkness washed over him, rendering his whole body in a state of unconsciousness. _'Just fucking fantastic.'_

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><p>There was nothing gentle about the way Dean regained consciousness, and the hunter could only assume that he was still alive judging from the fact that his entire body hurt like hell. Either that, or he <em>was<em> in hell. Hard to say which of the two he actually preferred.

Blinding pain rippled through his arm as he felt teeth sink into his limb, breaking skin and causing his whole body to jerk violently. A heartfelt scream was heard, apparently coming from his own throat, but Dean was in no shape to register such an irrelevant fact.

"Oh dear, he's awake boys."

Dean's eyes shot open, and he found himself staring directly into the demonic eyes of the 'man' who'd had his hands around the hunter's throat only moments before. Not a sight he'd wanted to wake up to.

Green eyes darted in the direction of his left arm, the source of his agony. To say that the sight pissed the young hunter off would've been an understatement.

"Wait, what did you-… did you just bite me you fish-faced freak!"

"Sorry about that. I told him to wait until you were properly awake, but as you probably can tell, we're all a bit starved." The man above him stated calmly as he got to his feet, circling Dean like the poor pray he was.

Panting heavily, Dean tried his best to ignore the fact that a chunk of his flesh was _missing_ and decided to take in as much of his surroundings as possible. Apparently, the sons of bitches had him pinned to the ground, iron chains keeping him in place as he lay spread eagled on a cold, concrete floor. From his position he could make out eight men and women, probably just as "human" as the man in front of him.

Dean gave a bitter snort, staring blankly up at the ceiling. "Why am I still alive?"

"Why are you-, oh that i_s_ a good question. You see, my brothers here are kind of pissed that you tried to… what's it called? Oh yeah, send us back home. And thus, as one of the seven princes of hell, I think we are entitled to a little payback, don't you?"

"Bite me," Dean spat, immediately regretting his poor choice of phrasing as the monster to his right chuckled, murmuring a quick 'love to' before another pair of teeth pierced through his skin, tearing it apart.

"_Fuck_," Dean hissed as the familiar scent of his own blood filled his nostrils. It was a sickening smell, and it took some serious willpower to not just throw up right then and there.

The hunter reluctantly stole a quick glance to check out the damage, and what he saw made his insides twist in ways he didn't think were possible. His entire arm was covered in crimson liquid that kept spilling out of two nasty flesh-wounds. But that was not what made the Winchester nauseous. Oh no. Pain he could handle. Pain he was used to. It was more due to the fact that a middle-aged man, at least a very ugly example of one, was currently chewing, devouring pieces of Dean's arm. Sure, Dean had experienced way worse during his stay in Hell, but it was just something incredibly _gross _about getting eaten alive.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you won't die from blood loss until we're finished with you." The one in the lab coat assured. "We're gonna take things _nice_ and _slow_ so that you can get the most out of this… _experience_." The leviathan licked his lips delicately.

"I can only assume that you gave my brother the same treatment?" Dean growled through gritted teeth, but managed to somewhat keep up the cool front. If they'd laid a hand Sam…

The creature released a sigh, smiling slightly. "I told you Dean, I haven't seen your brother."

Dean's eyes narrowed with distrust. "You're lying."

"Why? Because that would mean that you didn't come all this way for nothing?"

Dean's pulse suddenly sped up. _No way_. "Shut up." The hunter spat. He could practically hear the voice of Bobby Singer saying _'Told ya' _in the back of his head, but Dean refused to believe it. Sam would do no such thing.

"Did Sammy take off without telling his big brother where he went? Did he abandon you? Just like that. After everything you've done for him? Again. Some brother you have there. Dean," the doctor mocked, getting some kind of sick thrill out of watching realization sink into the human's eyes.

"I said SHUT UP!" shit, he was losing it. There was a small hint of relief in knowing that his brother was safe, but it was no comfort to the anger he was currently trying to control.

"Ow, come on Dean… don't give me such a harsh stare. I'm afraid I was mistaken before. There _really _is no fear in those hateful eyes of yours. Just pain. Empty meaningless pain. You're telling me you do not even fear death? I'm surprised." The monster paused in his steps as he kneeled next to the hunter's head, looking curiously down at the man.

"Why should I? It's getting old news." Dean retorted bitterly, his body jerking slightly.

"Indeed, why should you, nothing can harm you, right? Dean fucking Winchester is special. You've always been. Michael's sword. The chosen one. A true servant of heaven? Someone always bring you back," the monster stated, shortly followed by a low chuckle. "But Dean, that's all over isn't it? Did it ever occur to you that if I were to rip your heart out here and now you'd never see your family again? Who's going to save you now? You are no longer wanted, no longer needed. Not by heaven, not by hell. Not even your pathetic angel had any use for you in the end. You are not worth saving anymore. You will rot in hell like the filthy piece of meat you are. You're all alone Dean. All alone."

Silence filled the room as Dean found himself at a loss of words. He desperately wanted to tear the monster a knew face. Seconds dragged out into minutes and all Dean could do was trying to stare the creature to death, knowing it probably wouldn't be as effective as he'd hoped.

"I know." Dean finally answered with such a finality to it that it scared him, closing his eyes. Yes, Dean knew this truth all too well and in some sick, twisted way, he wanted it all to be over. Heaven or hell, _this _was hell. His hell. It just wasn't his responsibility anymore. He was sick and tired of cleaning up other people's messes. Why did everything always fall on him?

"You really are every bit of the broken man people say you are. So please, let me free you from your agony."

For the next hour Dean's mind went somewhere else, somewhere peaceful, as eight hungry animals tore at his every limb, ripped through his flesh, making him suffer in every possible way until the human was done screaming and his heart had stopped once again. Once and for all. It was finally over. Or so he thought.

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><p>It was dark, or at least Dean thought it was, there was no way to be sure. He couldn't feel his own body, couldn't open or close his eyes. It was as if he himself didn't exist. Now, the hunter knew more about dying than most people and <em>this<em>… this felt like neither heaven nor hell. Then, where the hell was he? Some kind of limbo? But that didn't make sense either, because he could clearly remember seeing a woman rip out his still beating heart before his very eyes, then everything had gone black, and here he was.

"_**Dean**_." A voice so powerful that Dean was sure it would've sent shivers down his spine, if he'd _had_ a goddamn spine that was, spoke into the darkness. It was everywhere. Surrounding him. There was no doubt in his mind just who that voice belonged to.

Suddenly, the hunter found himself able to form a reply. How, he didn't know. "_God_, I presume?"

_**"I suppose you could use that name**_." The voice replied calmly, but just as powerful and just as overwhelming to his mental ears.

Dean suddenly felt like laughing. After _all this time_. Then his non-existing eyes hardened ,"What the _hell _do you want?"

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><p><em><strong>AN:**_ So that's it for now, all mistakes are my own as I have yet to find a beta. Upcoming chapters will quite possibly be the same length as this one, please let me know if it's too short or too long.

Now go do what all authors crave. Starts with an r ends with eview.


	2. A talk with the old boss

_**A/N:**_ First of all, thank you so much for the wonderful feedback, makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. Now get ready for the terrible excuse you knew was coming: a few days after posting the previous chapter my computer literally died, taking with it five finished chapters for Break My Wings. Needless to say, it sucked, but now I'm back on track and I hope you're all still eager for more. I have plenty.

This chapter is split in two so the next instalment will be out shortly.

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><p><em><strong>Chapter two<strong> - A talk with the old boss_

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><p><em>Then his non-existing eyes hardened, "What the <em>hell_ do you want?"_

"**First of all, this is not an ideal place to have this conversation**." As soon as the words had been spoken there was a resonating sound of what Dean assumed were two hands clasping together, followed by a quick intake of breath. It was as if gravitation had suddenly decided to make an appearance, grabbing hold of his ankle and throwing him downwards.

Suddenly the scenery changed as a flash of boisterous bright light swallowed the darkness and the hunter found himself inhaling fresh air into his lungs for the first time in what felt like a lifetime.

Dean felt his heart skip a beat as he braced himself for the impact that apparently never came.

"The hell?" Dean's hoarse voice choked out as over-sensitive lids forced themselves open.

Afternoon sunlight assaulted green eyes as their automatic reaction was to start scanning the area, making Dean hiss at the unpleasant sensation when the attempt failed. He recognized the feeling. It was a sensation similar to when he'd first escaped from the Pit, as if his eyes just now experienced daylight for the first time in months, which in all honesty had been the case back then.

As the delicate orbs slowly began to adjust Dean averted his gaze towards a pair of slightly scarred hands. There was a story behind each and every one of those carvings and he was happy to realize that he knew all of them by heart.

Dean uttered a sigh of relief, he was once again in a solid form and thank, well, _God_ for that he supposed. The whole out-of-body experience had begun to tear on his already messed up sanity.

Satisfied after giving himself a once-over just to make sure that he indeed was unharmed and in his _own_ body, the hunter took in his surroundings in a state of confusion. Just where the hell had that bastard sent him?

Dean quickly realized that he was standing in the middle of a huge landscape, which in all honesty seemed like it was cut out from a very girly fairytale, butterflies included. Still, there was no denying the sheer beauty of the place, probably comparable to the garden of Eden if he were to be truly honest. Not that Dean would ever willingly use the word "beautiful" to describe a place that made him want to puke at the same time.

Every tree, straw, rock, flower. Everything, had a faint glow surrounding it. The color scheme in itself was also unnatural and piercingly bright, seeming as surreal as chokingly present to his eyes and mind. It was like being introduced to an unknown drug that made everything look more stunning than he knew it to be.

The hunter coughed awkwardly as he felt mildly misplaced in this landscape of purity. The way the mild breeze made everything move with such graze caused a sickening feeling to form in the pit of his gut. Though similar, this was definitely not heaven. It felt untouched, as if Dean was the first human to ever set foot on these grounds. One thing was certain, he was _not_ about to hang around candyland for much longer. Now, if he could just locate the yellow-brick-road and get the hell away from here…

"Do not be frightened." Dean spun around at the sound of another voice, finding himself face to face with a middle-aged man standing a few feet behind him. The human look-alike sort of reminded Dean of an old college professor, well… according to Sam's description since Dean had little experienced with the world of academia and grades. For some reason he had expected a black suit and a British accent. Why? Hell if he knew.

"The earth once looked quite similar to this, you know." The voice seemed distant as he gazed up at the mesmerizing, swirling stars Dean had willingly decided not to acknowledge.

Dean swallowed with difficulty as he finally locked eyes with _the_ creator. The voice had been less powerful, the human form almost a comfort, but the way everything seemed to pull towards the other form was alarming.

Fear however, was not an emotion he could bring himself to feel at the moment. Not after what he'd just been through. What could possibly be worse than being eating alive by ugly jellyfish? The ancient geezer would have to be extremely creative to top that. Then again, he was _God… _Alright, he'd admit to being mildly concerned.

The hunter finally cleared his throat, feeling surprisingly calm about standing face to face with the being he had only a few moments ago doubted even existed anymore. Like everything else in this messed up place of beauty, the man had a glowing aura surrounding him. His golden eyes was currently watching Dean with what looked like mild amusement. Dean resisted the urge to grit his teeth.

"I take it this isn't heaven then?" Dean asked offhandedly, letting the anger subside for now. He had to admit he was curious. How many angels had seen this dude again? Four? Not exactly a candidate for the father of the year award.

The older man broke eye-contact as he returned to gaze up at what he probably thought was a masterpiece. Dean was not about to disagree. "No. This is simply something I had created for the occasion."

_Occasion? _And just where exactly did Dean fit in this crazy wonderland?

"So…" Dean started, , "This _isn't _where you've been spending your afternoons ignoring the Apocalypse, huh?"

There was a short moment of silence and Dean used the offered pause to stretch his unnaturally sore neck.

"I have a proposition." The man had obviously made the choice to ignore the snide remark, taking a few steps towards the hunter as his eyes lingered just barely at the sky before they were once again locked with Dean's, making it nearly impossible for the hunter to look away.

Another pause as Dean gave a blank look. "…So you admit that you've been ign-"

"Your continued insolence will get you nowhere, _Dean_."

"Look, I'm not one of your holy bitches and I'm definitely _not_ interested in any of your _propositions_." Dean spat coldly, his eyes narrowing with distrust as the anger returned full force. Like hell he was gonna do any more favours for a no-good God who hadn't bothered to lift a finger during Armageddon.

The expression on the other man's face didn't stir as the golden orbs continued to focus on Dean's own, now tinted with mild curiosity. Once again, it pissed. Dean. off.

The man sighed softly, as if Dean was nothing more than a stubborn child incapable of understanding grown-up stuff. "I understand the anger you must feel. You are human, after all."

Dean couldn't help himself and a dry laugh forced itself past his lips. "Plenty of people would disagree with you on that." He stated humourlessly.

The older man scratched his cheek carelessly and disturbingly human before continuing. "Despite many thinking human emotion to be a great flaw, I find it surprisingly useful and… fascinating. Especially when it comes to you, Dean."

Dean continued to eye the man with an expression he hoped would convey how useless and utterly stupid this conversation was to him. Didn't quite seem to work.

"Your anger, your guilt, the love for your brother, it makes you capable of doing _extraordinary_ things. Have you not noticed? How truly special you are? So unlike the majority of mankind. You are imperative to my plan, the only one I will use." The man said calmly, clearly fascinated while looking like he had all the time in the world. The Winchester on the other hand was not known for being patient.

"And by special you obviously mean stupid, naïve and suicidal, but hey, that's just how I was raised." The hunter smiled ironically.

The older man chuckled. So God _did_ have a sense of humour? Who'd have thought?

"Oh, and by the way. Not. interested. in being. Used. Just so we're clear on that."

"Noted." The older man nodded. "But hardly your choice if I truly wanted to exploit your… talents."

"Right." Dean whispered through clenched teeth. "So… you say you understand my so called 'anger'? Dean asked, more like stated, just as calmly, his eyes twitching with suppressed fury. "Personally I wouldn't use _that_ particular word since I believe that rage, or well, slightly strong resentment towards an incompetent higher power would be more fitting, but hey that's not important. And I also suppose," Dean paused as a frustrated grin broke past his lips, "that since you're _so awesomely_ understanding, you also do get that you're a pretty huge part of the cause as to why I'm pissed off in the first place, right? Or do you simply not give a damn that your absence almost lead to the end of the fucking world?"

Oh yes, He was quite correct. Anger was at the moment the predominant emotion Dean was experiencing. Although that didn't mean there weren't other factors taking residence in his very core, just waiting for a chance to dominate him and explode. He just chose to ignore them for now.

"You quite obviously do not understand my intensions."

"True, but that's just cause' you work in mysterious ways, right?" Dean said in faux amazement. Such a delightful feeling it was being on the brink of insanity, and this time he seriously contemplated jumping over the edge.

"I never expected you to understand, Dean, not yet. However, you are correct. I had no part in the meticulous planning that went into getting Michael and Lucifer ready for one of their juvenile fights."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Damn right you-"

"-Yes, yes, nor did I intervene when my children were close to succeeding.

But you see, I am not here to justify my actions, or lack of thereof, to _you_. I brought you here because I am in need of your assistance."

"Figured as much already." Dean exhaled a weary sigh. "You're wasting your time. I'm done. If you want something fixed then call Bob the builder or snap your _friggin' _fingers, cause' I'm _done_."

More silence. Dean bit the inside of his cheek for composure and resisted the urge to groan. Oh, these awkward pauses were slowly killing him. He realized in that moment that he actually preferred the company of Death compared to this asshole and it forced a smirk to appear on his face. He was so gonna buy that guy a hundred cheeseburgers if he zapped him away from here within the next ten seconds.

"…So you say." The man hummed. "But it is an inherent quality of yours, Dean. Not being able to give up if given enough hope. You might believe that it is hopeless, that you simply do not care anymore. You have in other words become… cynical. But if I told you, that there was a _slight_ chance you could restore order to both Heaven and Earth, would you not be curious as to what I have to say? Would you not want to make this happen?"

Oh if looks, thoughts or the sound of a fist clenching could kill…

Golden eyes creased knowingly. "We both know the answer to that, do we not?"

Dean snorted. "Don't you even try you righteous son of a bitch. Why don't _you_ fucking restore order yourself this time? _Then_ come to me and I'll let you know if I approve or not."

The middle-aged man opened his mouth but Dean cut him off.

"-No, wait. I already know, you have more important things to do, right? Like screwing over my family some more? Kill any more of our friends? Well tough' luck cause' I don't have all that many of them left!"

"And you think it is my responsibility." The man stated mockingly.

"Oh for crying out loud, It's your, excuse the expression, _God damn _children that keep screwing things up. It's not my fault that you failed to raise them and teach them proper manners, so yeah, take some responsibility yourself and leave me out of it. Besides, you're pretty screwed up yourself if you think _one_ man can bring peace to Heaven and Earth."

An impatient sigh was heard from the other man's lips. "I said restore some order Dean, not bring peace. I am realistic after all, and If I recall correctly, the fiasco with the leviathans happened due to _your_ influence on one of my _children_, correct?"

Dean felt a familiar sting make an appearance in his chest. Now this was a topic he wanted to avoid more than anything. Never before had he felt a greater urge to punch God in the face. "Don't even _try_ to put that shit on my shoulders. _You _were the reason he went out of control. _You_, not me. It would have only taken two lousy seconds of your time to prevent it, but no, God had apparently left the building. How did we know this again? Oh right, cause' you decided to leave a message with your gardener practically telling us '_I'm done helping you, you're on your own'. _Good times_. _It certainly made things a whole lot _better_." Dean spat resentfully.

"Castiel was not the first, nor will he be the last, angel to lose faith in me, Dean. Yet, he was the first to open Purgatory. Why is that?"

Oh yes, there it was. He could practically feel the mental breakdown pushing and stretching the tiny barrier keeping it at bay and Dean once again resorted to laughter. "You know what, fine! You want me to share the blame with him? Whatever makes you sleep at night… We both screwed up! Is that what you want to hear?"

"I am not interested in putting the blame on you, Dean. I am just trying to tell you that he had a valid point. Castiel's basic idea of free will was pure, but flawed, and thus you failed. The fact that you managed to influence him to that degree, to make him feel human emotion and eventually place his loyalties with you." The man chuckled, but it was filled with a strange warmth Dean hadn't expected. "He practically rebelled for _you_, a human. It was highly impressive."

_Impressive? _Dean blinked, a bit perplexed by the misplaced praise.

"You failed because you lost whatever connection that made him follow you in the first place. You stopped communicating."

Dean flinched as a wave of guilt he refused to acknowledge threatened to choke him. "I don't see how it matters anymore… He willingly chose to betray us. At least I _tried _to stop him, unlike the one with the actual _power _to do it."

"You cannot honestly believe that it is that easy. You do not lack intelligence, Dean."

"I don't care whether it's easy or not! The fact is that _you_ could have stopped thousands of lives from being ruined, and still chose to stay on the sidelines. Not freaking cool! If you truly wanted to you could have stopped Ca-…" _Woah, _voice dangerously close to breaking there. Dean cleared his throat. "If you'd just shown yourself at that time… given him a sign that you existed, that you even remotely cared then he wouldn't be fucking-"

"-Perhaps, but then he would never have learned."

Dean gave a disbelieving look. "You're one sick son-of-a-bitch…" He swallowed as the only answer he got was a pair of exited eyes boring into him. "Look, I clearly have no intention of helping you out so save some time and do us both a favour; send me wherever it is I'm supposed to be. Heaven or Hell, cause' I honestly don't care anymore."

God seemed to consider his words for a moment.

"I will make you a deal. If you do not agree to assist me by the time I have finished explaining I will let you go. However, you cannot answer until I have informed you of my rather… impulsive plan." He mused.

The hunter frowned. "Impulsive? Oh this oath to be good." Dean muttered sarcastically. "Fine, it's not like I have a choice."

"Indeed." The man's lips quirked upwards as if amused. "As Death might have mentioned, I am in the delicate process of retiring."

"I was under the impression that you already _had_, but thanks for confirming the obvious." Dean retorted cheerfully.

"If I had more time I would certainly do something about that charming personality of yours, however, I find myself in a situation where postponing my retirement for much longer would be highly unbeneficial and more trouble than it's worth."

"Yeah, sitting on your ass all day must be awfully tire- Ghn!" Dean was cut off as it suddenly became impossible to breathe. His hands immediately shot up to his throat as he struggled to stay on his feet. Yup, most likely crossed a line there.

"I would tell you to respect your elders, but you already know that. Do you have anything else you would like to share before I continue?" The man enquired almost patiently.

Dean gasped as air finally returned to his lungs and for once, he kept his mouth shut.

"Wise choice, Winchester." The human look-alike mocked.

The hunter gave a short salute while watching the all-powerful being with apprehensive eyes. Dickhead. That's what he was. Probably his true form, a huge dickshaped head.

"The question is however, do I take humanity with me or not?"

"What?" Dean managed to choke out, his eyes widening at comment.

The man gave an almost apologetic smile. "Why do you think I asked the angels to love and bow down to humanity?"

Dean shrugged automatically, "…You were bored?" He tried half-heartedly, not really up for guessing-games.

Another one of those arrogant sighs broke past the man's lips. "Your are a young species, and in order to advance you need someone to guide you onto the right path. For a whole millennia Heaven, as well as Earth, was under Michael's care and command, but with time even he lost faith and the continuance of human existence was no longer a priority. If revealing myself would put an end to this I would do it. But the fact remains that in doing so I will only give more orders which will eventually lead to disobedience when I'm truly gone. I am not interested in holding anyone's hand for all eternity. I want you to co-exist, but I do not know how. It is not you who have failed, it is I."

Once again, Dean snorted. "Agreed. So at least try fixin' it!"

"I am tired, Dean. The arrival of the Leviathans was the final straw. It is now only a matter of time before Heaven will fall and truly erupt into chaos. When they do, humans will once again be caught in the crossfire. If you do not get eaten by monsters your souls will be used as fuel in order to defeat the leviathans. In the end I will either be left with what I started with; intelligent, powerful beings roaming a deserted planet, or a few surviving angels among millions of lost human souls."

Dean looked away, refusing to see reason in what the lunatic was saying. "Why can't you just throw your pets back into Purgatory, problem solved! And we can all live happily ever after."

"Ah, but you see, it is not my problem anymore."

Dean's voice lowered dangerously as his eyes snapped back, currently trying to pierce through the man standing before him. Who's problem was it then? _His_? "What? Oh you have _got_ to be kidd- Not your proble- _of course _it's your freaking problem! With great power comes great responsibility and all that crap, especially when it's something _you_ created!"

"I cannot clean up after you every time you spill something, I am sure you have heard something along these lines before. How long do you think it will be before something like this happens again? Purgatory has already been opened once. All it takes in one more creature with a power complex and as you probably know, both Heaven and Hell rooms quite a few of those. If nothing changes, it _will_ happen again and I will no longer be here. I would rather you did not suffer and avoid the mess by taking you with me."

"First of all, you haven't cleaned up shit! And second, what the hell do you mean by taking us _with_ you?" The hunter inhaled a deep breath. '_Do not punch him in the face, Dean. It can't be worth the consequences.' _

"You will simply cease to exist. It will be painless and quick. It is not the first time a species has been wiped out simply because they were too weak continue on their own. It is an act of mercy."

"You can't be serious?" Dean whispered disbelievingly as realization suddenly struck him. "… so basically, you're saying that, if I don't agree to… whatever it is you want me to do, you will wipe out humanity?"

"Correct." The other man answered, his voice as emotionless as his face.

"Yeah," Dean laughed hopelessly. "That's not very funny."

"Dean, I do not wish for this to happen any more than you do. Although, I will not force you to accept."

The hunter ran a frustrated hand through his hair as his breathing quickened. He honestly felt like crying, this had to be a fucked up dream, it was way too stupid to be real. "Oh no… No, no, no. You can't expect me to make that decision! I mean, are you nuts? Have you _seen_ me lately? I'm borderline psychotic and you want to place the fate of mankind in my hands… That's- Wow you're on some heavy stuff, man. No…"

"Dean-"

"-I can't do this…" Dean took a few steps back, nearly stumbling. "There's just no way. _Fuck _no. What are you- that must be the stupidest idea that I-"

"-Is this your answer?"

It took Dean ten whole seconds to register the question before he replied in a desperate voice, "What- no! That's not- no." He paused_. _"However tempting the idea of no afterlife is… You're not giving me a God damn choice! I have a _lot_ of blood on my hands, but this… It's fucking cruel, but you obviously don't care. I'm just saying that there's no way I _won't _screw this up. How do you expect me to do this alone? One guy? _Really? That's _your brilliant plan?"

"I never said you would do it alone-"

"-Don't you _dare_ bringing Sammy into-"

"-Please let me finish."

Dean gave a long hard look in the so-called God's direction. "Alright. But this better be good…"

* * *

><p><strong><em>AN: _**I think I've written about five different versions of God and I still don't know if I'm happy with how He turned out. And before you ask, the next chapter will have Cas in it along with a few other surprises.


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